The Avengers: Beyond Infinity
by MARVELous Moonflower
Summary: The Avengers have saved the world once before. Can they do it again as a new threat lurks? S.H.I.E.L.D. has found a secret thought be be long gone with its creator. They were wrong. Not only is The Other planning revenge, but there has always been one backstage, pulling the strings. It's up to the Avengers now. No slash.


Chapter One Nicole Logan

_Video Log – 10:34 AM. DATE, November 2012._

"I'm worried about Patrick. He's been acting odd lately. Yesterday, he called in sick, but today he seems to be doing better than ever." I glance over my shoulder and back at the camera. "I fear he may have defected. I'm glad I've not told him about Project: Recreation yet. And I don't that that I will." I drop my gaze to my hands. "I'm going to prepare the serum tonight. I don't trust anyone enough to use it on them and the handful I do, there's a chance they could die. I'm not willing to take that risk. I'm going to prepare a set of instructions for my cousin, Charlotte Cassidy, should I die." A short pause before I continue. "Charlie, tonight I'll make you a log with passwords, codes, instructions, anything you may need.

"You may share them, if you feel the need, I love you, Charlotte. Nicole Logan, over and out."

_End Video Log._

_Several hours later._

Brick walls enclose me. Trashcans line the alleyway as rats squeak, hiding behind the garbage. The fine hairs on my neck stiffen as chills run down my spine. Whirling around, I see Patrick Hooper standing behind me, watching interestedly.

"Did I startle you?" he asks, seeming not to care. Graying hair frames his nonchalant face. His green eyes show no emotion.

Something's not right. I nod slightly. "Yes, a little bit." I back up unconsciously, into an old cardboard box, causing myself to fall into it. It's soft, damp, and squishy but I hardly notice.

Patrick steps towards me, extending his hand. "Here, let me help." He seems helpful enough, but…I don't know. Maybe I'm just stubborn.

I stand up as quickly as I can, nevertheless. "I'm fine," I say, brushing off my backside.

"Alright, then," he says, raising his hands and backing off.

Regaining my footing, I spy two men lurking in the shadows. I pray that they aren't thugs or members of a gang. Mentally, I prepare myself for a fight, should something go south. Then I realize just what felt so strange about Patrick.

He is shooting straight up. From his 5'9" frame, he gained several more inches to his height, stopping at around 6'2". Not only that, but his muscles begin to bulge, so much that the shoulders of his suit rips.

"You aren't Patrick," I murmur to myself. Even though I see it, I don't want to believe it. But it all makes sense now. Over the last week, since he started acting strange…none of it was really him. "What did you do to him? What have you done with Patrick Hooper?"

"I thought you were smarter than that. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already," he sneers. "I'd hoped you would figure it out and tell everyone. Then they would think you had lost it, and it would make my job that much easier." He chuckles ominously and cracks his knuckles. "Well, we're in New York, and sometimes things just go bad, with all the crime around here."

I step back, dreading what's to come, yet knowing what will happen. My eyes widen, so wide that they can probably see themselves.

"Before we kill you, you should tell us how to make it," fake-Patrick says. Snapping his fingers, the two figures step out of the shadows and threateningly, yet ever so slowly, slip closer.

I summon my courage and hold my head high as I take a single step forward. "I can beat you. Every one of you." I hope they buy my bluff. They don't.

They lunge forward at me. I manage to step out of the way a second before they are where I was only a heartbeat ago. I aim a kick where a guy should never be kicked but Henchman #1 only winces before attempting to tackle me once again. I try to fight, but it doesn't work well. Henchman #2, the shorter, wider one, manages to grab my arms while I'm struggling to keep out HM1's grasp.

I scream as long as I can, but HM1 punches me in the chest, knocking the breath out of me. I hadn't planned to die today. I nearly give up hope when I realize it's not likely anyone will hear me.

_Dear God, I'm sorry for what I've done. Lord, I don't want to die. Let me live a bit longer. Send someone to save me, please._

I hear a revving, followed by a screech. Could it be possible…? A tall man jumps off a motorcycle, blue eyes frantic and blond hair flying. "Leave her alone!" he shouts. He punches HM2 in the face as he says, "I don't like bullies." The grip on my arm slackens enough for me to break free.

"Get over there!" he yells. I race to the bike as fast as humanly possible. After landing a few well placed punches and kick to fake-Patrick and the HMs. He turns to follow me, but the three men stop him. I want to help, but I'd be more like a hindrance, I think. It feels like it's been hours, but the entire thing couldn't have taken more than 15 minutes.

Fake-Patrick grabs me from behind and I bite his arm, kick, and punch him with every ounce of strength I have. It's enough to make him let go long enough for me to get away. My rescuer jumps onto the motorbike with a display of agility that could only come from special military training.

"Sit behind me, me!" he says. I do as I'm told. They attempt to follow us as we take off at high speed, but they soon fall behind.

"Who _are_ you?" I ask loudly, hardly able to hear over the roar of the engine. I hold onto him tightly, and peek over my shoulder every few seconds, searching for followers.

"My name's Steve Rogers," he replies. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you the same question. Who are you?"

"I'm Nicole," I say. "You saved my life. Thank you so much…Steve." I touch his arm, and quickly draw my hand away when I feel the wet, stickiness of blood. He has a long cut on his upper arm. One of those thugs must've pulled a knife on him. "You're hurt! Are you okay? Do you need to come to my house, or go to the hospital, or something?"

Glancing over at his shoulder, he shrugs. "It's nothing," is his quick reply. "I'm fine. I'm just glad I happened to pass by." He looks back at the road again. "Where do I need to take you?"

"The Logan mansion. It's close to Tony Stark's place, if you know where that is," I say. He tenses and sighs, I'm sure. Does he have something against Stark? It's not that I blame him, but…it's a bit strange.

"Yeah, I know where Stark's place is," he mumbles.

It turns into an uncomfortable silence, but I have time to think about what happened. We reach my house, and I unsteadily get off. My legs are jelly, and I'm shaking like a leaf. I'm still shocked and nauseous. When I nearly fall, Steve grabs my arms and prevents me from falling.

"Thank you," I say again. My voice catches on my words. I'm really shaken up about the whole thing. "You really did save my life. I was sure I was going to die. You're an answer to my prayer." That sounded a bit sappy. So, what I do next surprises even me. I'm normally not this impulsive.

I lightly kiss him on his cheek – just a small one, but a kiss nonetheless – before blushing and limping into the gates of my home. I mouth "Thank you" one last time before running inside. I watch him leave, and then I race down the steps to my lab/lounge.

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**AN: **Reviews are my favorite! Please, leave a review. Good, bad, flames (although, if there are flames, I will roast marshmallows over them. XD), it's all welcome. I apologize, if the quality of this chapter isn't the best. It isn't my favorite chapter, but I like the next one a lot better. If you review, I'll post the next chapter sooner! I already have chapters 2 and 3 wrote and edited, so...


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